


Mystrade Drabbles from Drabble Challenge 1-150

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 150 drabble prompts, Accidents, Anderson is a buzzkill, Angry Mycroft Holmes, Apologetic Greg, BAMF Mycroft Holmes, Broken nose, Champagne goes to Mycroft's head, Christmas Fluff, Cold Feet, Comforting Mycroft Holmes, Croissants, Drabble Collection, Drunk Dialing, Early Relationship, Embarrassing Photos, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Established Relationship, Fights, First Date, First Dates, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Greg has terrible taste in Christmas ornaments, Greg is a terrible tease, Greg takes Mycroft clothes shopping, Greg's hair, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Jealous Mycroft, Kissing, Late Night Booty Call, Light Angst, Lost child found, M/M, Making Up, Marriage Proposal, Mycroft hates spiders, Mycroft hates the heat, Mycroft is sex on legs, Mycroft isn't a fan of musicals, Mycroft likes Tom Hiddleston, Mycroft loves cacti, Mycroft tries on jeans, Mystrade Monday, Mystrade as parents, Mystrade goes on a hike, Mystrade goes shopping, Mystrade goes to the movies, Mystrade has appalling taste in movie snacks, New Year's Eve, Not playing checkers, Pre-Relationship, Protective Greg, Quarrels, Sassy Mycroft, Scary Movies, Sharing a Bed, Sherlock is disgusted, Sickfic, Slushies, Tickles, Tipsy Mycroft is adorable, Twins, Wordcount: 100, Yoga, air travel is scary, assembling toys, can Mycroft kiss?, damn straight Mycroft can kiss!, disagreements and fights, implied plant death, jumping on the bed, kitchen renovations, liquid diet, minor disagreements, mystrade, pre-Mystrade, the back of Mycroft's neck, tummy rumbles, twin daughters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:58:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 67
Words: 6,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: A drabble challenge had been going around Tumblr from prompt-bank. I wrote a few based on Tumblr requests and posted them here. Then I decided to write a drabble a week, posting each Monday until I finish the list. There’s 150, so it’ll take me years to do this. Lol!





	1. “How long have you been standing there?”

As Mycroft finished the last sun salutation he folded into child’s pose. Feeling invigorated and strong he rose to his knees and bent back, arching over his heels bracing his palms at the small of his back. Then he reached back first with one hand and then the other grasping his heels. He let his head drop back.

 

He opened his eyes to see Greg leaning against the doorframe, smirking. Mycroft held the camel pose another moment and then came out carefully.

 

“How long have you been standing there?”

 

“Long enough to say next time _you_ can be the wheelbarrow.”


	2. “I don’t need a hero, I need a husband.”

Mycroft glared from the corner of the hospital room. Donovan glanced his way and thought it best to make her goodbyes.

 

“What’s wrong love?” Greg asked from his bed.

 

“What’s wrong? You’ve a concussion and a broken leg.”

 

Greg patted the mattress. “Your champion needs a kiss.”

 

“Tackling an assassin doesn’t make you my champion.” Mycroft moved nearer to the bed.

 

“You’ve to admit I saved the day.” Greg grinned broadly.

 

“I don’t need a hero, I need a husband.” Mycroft sighed as he leaned down to kiss his lover.

 

“Did you just propose to me?”


	3. “And when did you plan on telling me about this?”

“You’re back early.” Mycroft stood in the wreck of their kitchen.

 

“Yeah…” Greg was at a loss for words.

 

Mycroft looked sheepish. “It’s just an update. You complained the decor was cold and uninviting.”

 

“This is more than an update, My.” Greg said, taking in the dismantled sink and missing appliances.

 

“The brushed steel didn’t compliment the wainscoting and wallpaper Maurice and I…”

 

“And when did you plan on telling me about this?” Greg continued.

 

“I’d hoped it would be done by now, but the counter tops arrived damaged…”

 

Greg pulled Mycroft close and kissed him soundly. “I love you.”


	4. “You didn’t wake me at 2 am because you were ‘in the mood’.”

“Lestrade,” Greg mumbled into his phone.

 

“There will be a car arriving in 15 minutes.”

 

Greg sat up. “Mycroft? What time is it?” He quickly glanced at his phone and groaned.

 

“Immaterial.”

 

“Is it Sherlock?” Greg crawled out of bed.

 

“Sherlock is fine.”

 

“Murder at the Diogenes, then?”

 

That got a snicker. “I’m afraid not.”

 

Greg sighed and contemplated his pants. “I suppose it’s too much to hope.”

 

“Hope?”

 

“You didn’t just wake me up at 2 am because you were ‘in the mood’.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“It’d be okay if you did. Just saying.”

 

“…”

 

“I’ll bring my handcuffs.”

 

“Please do.”


	5. “Who gave you that black eye?”

Mycroft stared in the mirror. The shiner was growing more impressive by the minute. Sighing, as there was nothing to be done, he straightened his tie and left the bathroom to find Greg had arrived.

 

“Holy Shit!”

 

“Hello, Gregory.”

 

“Who gave you that black eye?”

 

“How was your day?”

 

“Fuck my day.”

 

“Can we not talk about it?”

 

“Okay.” Greg watched Mycroft open his menu and did the same, glancing surreptitiously at his partner. Silence stretched between them.

 

“Fine. You want to know?”

 

“Nope. It’s your business. I’m sure the other guy looks worse.”

 

Mycroft smirked. “In fact, he does.”


	6. “Forget it. You fucking suck.”

Mycroft stood outside DI Lestrade’s office. The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear his partner talking, but the tenor of the voice from inside had him pause before entering. Lestrade was speaking with his estranged ex-wife and the conversation was not going his way.

 

“I know it’s your weekend, but it’s mum’s birthday and she’d like to have girls come to the party… No, I didn’t… What? …No, we’ve tickets to the Harry Potter play that weekend… You know, never mind. Forget it.”

 

Mycroft heard a hard object land on the desk.

 

“You fucking suck.” Greg angrily muttered.


	7. “Come on, baby, up to bed.”

“What are you doing awake?” Discovering his partner’s side of the bed empty, Greg found Mycroft in the drawing room.

 

“I can’t sleep. My sinuses are congested, my head hurts and I feel like I have to sneeze.” Mycroft sniffled pitifully. “I didn’t want to wake you up if I started.”

 

Greg smiled. “That’s very sweet of you, but you need your rest. Come on, baby, up to bed.”

 

“But…” His partner stopped and sneezed twice.

 

“Bless you, love. No buts. We’ve got plenty of tissues and I’ll get you some ibuprofen.”

 

“I don’t want you sick.”

 

“I’ll be fine.”


	8. “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

Greg coughed. “This is your fault,” he sputtered.

 

“I’m sorry, dear.” Mycroft murmured sympathetically.

 

“If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

 

“I offered to sleep elsewhere.”

 

“What kind of person kicks a sick person out of their own bed?” Greg gave his nose a great honking blow.

 

“I was…” Mycroft was cut off by his partner’s thunderous sneeze. “Bless you, _offering_ to go.”

 

“Still.” Snuffling, Greg huddled under the duvet.

 

“You can’t chastise me for making you ill in one breath and then defend your irresponsible behavior in the next.”

 

“I’m sick. I can do whatever I want.”


	9. "Can I do your hair?"

“What?”

 

“Can I do your hair?”

 

Greg looked in the bathroom mirror. Their suits were fresh and ties were straight. He thought his hair looked… like it always did. He could see a pleading expression in Mycroft’s eyes. Greg shrugged, turned around and leaned against the vanity.

 

Mycroft relaxed visibly and reached for the styling gel. He worked it through Greg’s silver locks and then got out the brush, carefully smoothing back the hair, before giving it a gentle tousle.

 

“There.”

 

Greg turned to look in the mirror. His hair looked exactly the same. He smiled.

 

“Thanks, love. Much better.”


	10. "He's a bad kisser"

 

“You want to do what?” Sherlock stared at Lestrade in shock.

 

“Ask your brother out.”

 

“Good God! Why?”

 

“He’s smart and handsome. I think he’d be a fun date.”

 

“A ‘fun date’? Mycroft?”

 

“Look, is he seeing anyone?”

 

“Of course not. Why would anyone want to be seen with him?”

 

“Why wouldn’t they?”

 

Sherlock looked stumped. “He’s a bad kisser.”

 

Greg looked at Sherlock skeptically. “How’d you know?”

 

“I deduced it. He has narrow lips.”

 

“So what?”

“He has a large nose. It would get in the way.”

 

“I don’t think you know anything about kissing, much less kissing Mycroft.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From chapter 10 on I'm going to see if I can use the drabble prompts to get our happy couple through to their first kiss. Wish me luck.


	11. "Call On Line 1"

“Mr. Holmes,” Anthea’s voice interrupted Mycroft’s licentious daydream. “Call on line 1. It’s Inspector Lestrade.”

 

“Lestrade? Put him through.” Mycroft’s phone rang twice. “Hello Inspector.”

 

“Before you ask Sherlock’s fine. Well, he will be.”

 

“Will be?”

 

“Once he’s gotten over the shock.”

 

“And what has shocked him pray tell? The moon being responsible for the tides?”

 

Greg’s chuckle made Mycroft’s heart flip. “No, I told him I wanted to take you out.”

 

“Out where? I’m perfectly capable of taking myself wherever I wish to go.”

 

“Yeah, but a date is more fun with two people.”

 

“A date?”

 

“You sound shocked.”


	12. "You, me, popcorn, two liter Dr. Pepper, and a movie. You in?"

Greg’s bright smile greeted Mycroft as he climbed into the front seat of the car. Mycroft smiled tentatively back. His legs were uncomfortably folded up in the cramped cabin.

 

“Let me help you.” Greg leaned over and reached between Mycroft’s legs to release the seat allowing it to slide back. Mycroft inhaled Greg’s aftershave, a citrusy scent with a woodsy finish.

 

“Thank you.” He murmured.

 

“Better?” Greg sat back up.

 

“Yes,” Mycroft fastened his seatbelt. “What do you have planned this evening? You didn’t say when you called.”

 

“You, me, popcorn, two liter Dr. Pepper and a movie. You in?”


	13. "I'm pregnant."

“I really have no idea how you can possibly drink that.” Mycroft settled into the plush lounger next to Greg’s in the theatre. He sat his drink into the drink holder in the armrest on his right.

 

“What do you mean?” Greg took a big swig from his giant soda cup.

 

“Dr. Pepper is singularly the most disgusting beverage on the planet and then to pair it with popcorn.” Mycroft shuddered.

 

“What can I say? I’m pregnant.” Greg grinned.

 

Mycroft snorted a laugh. “I’m sorry Gregory that excuse is not possible.”

 

“You shouldn’t talk. Orange soda and chocolate mints? Gross.”


	14. "Your favorite superhero can’t be a villain.”

Despite the disagreement on movie refreshments, Greg felt the date was going quite well. As they wandered through the park on their way to Greg's car, Greg risked reaching out and taking Mycroft’s hand. The cool touch of those long fingers as they curled around his own hand gave Greg pleasant shivers.

 

“So, you enjoyed the movie?”

 

Mycroft smiled, “Surprisingly, I did.”

 

“Everyone likes a good superhero flick.” Mycroft hummed in agreement. “Who’s your favorite superhero?”

 

Mycroft thought a moment. “Loki.”

 

“Loki? He’s a menace. Your favorite superhero can’t be a villain.”

 

“He can if he’s played by Tom Hiddleston.”


	15. "Why did we have kids?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will take a little break from the first date story and post something a bit more seasonal. Back to the first date thread next week.

“Bloody hell!” Greg dropped the hammer and sucked his thumb. He glowered at the half built toy. “Whose idea was it to buy this for the girls for Christmas?”

 

“Yours, if I remember correctly.” Mycroft always remembered correctly. He continued to study the dollhouse instructions.

 

“Can you remember this? Why did we have kids?”

 

“I believe we were overcome with sentiment watching my brother and John dote on Rosamund.”

 

“Yeah, right.”

 

“Come with me.” Mycroft pulled his husband up from the floor and led him to the twins’ bedroom. They stood in the doorway, watching their daughters sleep.

 

“Oh, right.”


	16. Happy New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timing of this prompt was too good to pass up. I promise back to the first date theme next week. :)

“Gregory, darling! Happy New Year!”

 

“Mycroft?”

 

“Apologies for not being there to kiss you as you deserved to be kissed.”

 

“My? Are you drunk?”

 

“No, no, no… Maybe. Yes. A little. I could have had a bit to drink. To ring in the New Year, you know.”

 

“Champagne?”

 

“Yes, of course. How else would one ring in the newborn year?”

 

“Champagne goes straight to your head.”

 

“Does it? Perhaps it does a bit. Feels nice though. Feel better if I was with you.”

 

“Where’s Anthea?”

 

“I shouldn’t tell you this but she has been kissing the ambassador to South Africa.”

 

“Are you in South Africa?”

 

“No, no, no… Maybe. Yes.”


	17. "I'll take care of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the first date thread.

Mycroft threw back his head and laughed. Dinner had gone as well as the movie, if not better. The waiter discreetly slid the check on the table. Greg reached for the bill.

 

“You bought the movie tickets and refreshments. I must insist on paying for dinner.” Mycroft’s hand settled onto Greg’s hand.

 

“No, you’re my date. Therefore I pay the bill.”

 

“I’ll take care of it.”

 

“I invited you out. It’s my treat.” Their fingers tangled together.

 

“I see. If I invite you on a date then I would pay the bill?”

 

“Yes.” Greg lifted Mycroft’s hand to his lips.


	18. "And that's how you ruin a life. Congratulations."

“Christ,” Greg gasped as he pulled back. Mycroft’s eyes slowly fluttered open, looking dazed. Those narrow lips were now kiss-swollen and bright red.

 

Mycroft took in Greg’s stunned countenance. “Apologies,” he stammered. “I thought…” Mycroft blushed bright red. Dropping his gaze, he moved away. “I won’t do that again.”

 

Greg reached out and tipped Mycroft’s chin up, gently guiding the man back towards him. “And that’s how you ruin a life. Congratulations.”

 

“Wha…” Mycroft started as Greg pressed his lips tenderly against the other man’s mouth.

 

“My life is ruined if I never get to kiss you again,” Greg murmured.


	19. "That wasn't very subtle."

Greg let out a low whistle as Mycroft exited the car, causing the younger man to flush. Mycroft approached the cordon line, his head held high. Greg walked over to meet him.

 

“That wasn’t very subtle.” Mycroft muttered when they reached each other.

 

“Didn’t mean it to be.” Greg responded cheekily. “You look like sex on legs.” Mycroft failed to look displeased. “Where’ve you been?”

 

“I’m returning from a function at the Canadian embassy.”

 

“Well, Sherlock’s not here.”

 

“I wasn’t looking for Sherlock.” Mycroft’s tongue slipped across his lower lip.

 

“That wasn’t very subtle.”

 

“I didn’t mean it to be.”


	20. "Come over here and make me."

“I’ll pick you up at eight, okay?”

“Certainly. I look forward to it.”

“No suits.”

“Of course not.” Mycroft agreed easily. “I’m planning to wear my country tweeds.”

“Seriously? This isn’t a walk in a park. It’s a hike.”

“I have some sturdy brogues.”

“Do you have jeans?”

Silence on the line.

Greg had a sinking feeling. “Corduroys? Cargo pants?”

“Excuse me, ‘cargo’ what?”

Greg looked at his watch. “Okay, shops close in three hours.”

“I’m not buying jeans.” Mycroft huffed.

“Oh yes you are.”

“Come over here and make me.”

“That’s the plan, love. See you in thirty minutes.”


	21. "I can't stand seeing you like this."

“Absolutely not.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“How can you ask that?”

 

“I don’t know. The pockets are very useful.”

 

“Next.”

 

Greg sighed and put the cargo pants back. “These?”

 

“Fine.” Mycroft snatched the jeans and marched back to the dressing rooms.

 

Minutes went by and Greg found himself tapping on the dressing room door. “You okay?”

 

“Ah…”

 

“Do they fit?”

 

The dressing room door slowly opened.

 

“Oh. Look at you,” Greg breathed.

 

Mycroft frowned and looked in the mirror. “Do they make me look fat?”

 

“No. It’s just…”

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

 

"Like what?"

 

"Dead sexy."


	22. “Ew! Your hand is sweaty.”

“Here, give me your hand. I’ll help you up.” Greg stood atop an outcropping of rock. He leaned down offering his hand. Mycroft bit his lip, looking fretful. “C’mon. You’ll want to see this view.”

 

Reaching up Mycroft took Greg’s hand. “Ew! Your hand is sweaty.”

 

“So’s yours.” Greg grunted as he tugged Mycroft up the rest of the way.

 

Mycroft hastily wiped his hands on the back of his now filthy jeans. Greg smiled, wiping his own with a bandana.

 

“What do you think?” Greg gestured at the view.

 

“Breathtaking.” Mycroft murmured not taking his eyes off of Greg.


	23. "You look pretty hot in plaid."

“I enjoyed that more than I expected. The views were remarkable.”

 

Greg gazed at Mycroft from across the table, sipping his pint.

 

“When you suggested a ‘hike’, I was sure it would be strenuous and devoid of all amenities.” Contemplating his surroundings, Mycroft nibbled on a chip. “This restaurant is pleasant and the food is delicious.” He looked back to see Greg grinning at him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Is there sauce on my face?” Mycroft reached for his napkin.

 

Greg leaned in, whispering, “You look pretty hot in plaid.”

 

Mycroft huffed, pleased.


	24. "I just like proving you wrong."

“That’s disgusting. Must you do that?” Sherlock shuddered.

 

“Says you, who also said he was a bad kisser. Since you were wrong about that your opinion on the matter doesn’t hold much weight with me.”

 

“But Mycroft?”

 

“Yes, he’s my boyfriend and I must kiss him every chance I get. Besides there’s a bonus to it.”

 

The mere thought causes my stomach to heave.” Sherlock muttered.

 

“Yeah.” Greg’s expression was soft as he watched Mycroft get in his car. He turned to Sherlock. “I just like proving you wrong.” Greg delivered a wicked grin. “And every kiss is more evidence.”


	25. "Did they hurt you?"

Mycroft burst into the A&E room. His eyes were wide with panic and his complexion paler then usual.

 

“Mycroft? What are you doing here?” Startled, Greg looked up from putting on his shirt.

 

Mycroft’s gaze raked over Greg, assessing. “I came as soon as I heard.”

 

“How did you know I was here?” The question was ignored.

 

“Did they hurt you?” The bandage on Greg’s shoulder drew Mycroft’s attention. “If they hurt you, I’ll…” He started to shake.

 

“Hush,” Greg pulled Mycroft into a tight embrace. “I’m fine. Just fine, love.”

 

“I was so scared.” Mycroft gasped.

 

“It’s okay, love.”


	26. “We’re playing checkers. If you don’t like it, leave.”

“Lestrade!” Sherlock burst into Greg’s flat. “I know what… Mycroft? What are you doing?” Sherlock stared at the two men on the couch.

 

“What does it look like?” Greg scowled at Sherlock as Mycroft buried his face in the crook of Greg’s neck. “We’re playing checkers. If you don’t like it, leave.”

 

Puzzled, Sherlock replied, “It doesn’t look like you’re playing checkers.”

 

“What clued you in?”

 

“There’s no checker board… and you’re naked.” Mycroft whimpered and Greg pulled the man tighter against him. “Oh! I see…” Greg watched the penny drop. “Isn’t this activity usually done in bed?”

 

“Get out!”


	27. "I said get rid of it."

“Get rid of it.”

 

“Why?

 

“Isn’t it obvious?”

 

Greg gazed at the offending item. “No, actually.”

 

Mycroft sighed. “It’s not seemly.”

 

“Seemly?”

 

“Yes, seemly. Meaning decorous, conventionally proper…”

 

“I know what it means, My.”

 

“I said get rid of it.” Mycroft reached for the object.

 

“No.” Swiftly Greg moved, holding it behind his back.

 

“I’ll get you another one.” Mycroft pleaded.

 

“But I like this one. You have the cutest…”

 

Long arms reached around to snatch the framed picture.

 

Greg gave Mycroft his biggest, widest puppy eyes.

 

Mycroft huffed.

 

Greg’s lower lip trembled.

 

The picture went back on the desk.


	28. “They got you a present. Isn’t it sweet?”

Weirdly this story posted twice as chapter 28 and chapter 30. Please go chapter 30 to see the story. Thanks! --LAV


	29. "Stop it! It Tickles!"

Greg trailed his fingers along Mycroft’s hairline. The skin under his fingertips shivered. His attention was focused elsewhere as he caressed the tender skin. Mycroft uttered a quiet whimper lost in the sound effects of the film. Greg took another pass across the back of Mycroft’s neck. 

“Stop it! It tickles!” Mycroft jerked away from Greg’s light touches.

“Sorry, love. I didn’t realize.”

Accepting the apology, Mycroft moved back. Greg kept his hands away, but the tiny curls and faint freckles still beckoned. Mycroft sighed as he felt Greg nibble along his neck. 

“Better?” Greg murmured.

Mycroft groaned, “Oh yes.”


	30. “They got you a present. Isn’t it sweet?”

“I’m sorry Gregory. I’m not quite ready. I only need to finish this email.”

 

“No problem.” Greg wandered over to the bookshelves in Mycroft’s office. “Hey, what is this?”

 

“What is what?” Mycroft didn’t look up.

 

“This.” Greg held up the object gaining Mycroft’s attention.

 

“It was a gift from my staff.” Mycroft responded and went back to his typing.

 

“They got you a present. Isn’t it sweet?”

 

Mycroft grunted, but continued to work.

 

Greg looked at the mug*. He grinned. “Tell me. Do you ever use it?”

 

Mycroft flashed a wicked smile. “Only when I meet with the PM.”

 

 

*[Mycroft's Mug](https://www.cafepress.com/mf/83613036/out-of-puppets-and-crayons_mugs?productId=1004814621)


	31. “I broke your nose, and I’m sorry for that. But what you’re doing isn’t fair.”

Greg watched the doctor leave the room before turning back to Mycroft. He smiled tentatively at his partner.

 

“So, it’s broken.”

 

Mycroft glared at Greg over the ice pack he held to his face.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

Mycroft narrowed his eyes.

 

Greg approached, leaning in to kiss Mycroft’s cheek only to be pushed away. He sighed. “I broke your nose, and I’m sorry for that. But what you’re doing isn’t fair.”

 

Mycroft made a rude noise.

 

“It was an accident. I wouldn’t hurt a hair on your head if I could avoid it.”

 

Mycroft growled.

 

“Sorry, poor choice of words.”


	32. “You’re still mad?”

“Okay, I set up the humidifier in the bedroom.”

 

Mycroft grunted.

 

“You’re still mad?”

 

Mycroft sighed, “Doe.”

 

“Can I take a look?”

 

“My node id horrible ednough, now id’s wordse.” Mycroft refused to remove his hand and the gauze he held.

 

“Oh, love. Your nose is beautiful.” Mycroft rolled his eyes. “Let me kiss it.”

 

“Doe! That’d how id happened, uds trying to kids.”

 

Greg chuckled. “I know. I was there.” He gently pulled Mycroft’s hands away. Whining, Mycroft closed his eyes. “Poor nose,” Greg murmured. He placed a tender kiss on the tip and another on his lover’s lips.


	33. “I told you not to jump on the bed!”

“You’re a grown man.”

 

“Your bed is bigger than London.”

 

“You shouldn’t jump on the bed.”

 

“C’mon it’s fun.” Mycroft eyed Greg bouncing up and down. “You know you want to.”

 

Laughing and spinning, Greg bounced higher and higher. Mycroft chuckled and climbed on the bed. Greg landed awkwardly and caromed into Mycroft knocking them both off the bed.

 

Greg rolled on the floor giggling.

 

Mycroft knelt with his hands pressed to his face, groaning.

 

“You okay?” Greg gasped out.

 

Mycroft lifted his head, tears of laughter streaming down his face. “I told you not to jump on the bed!”


	34. “Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

“I’m sorry.” Greg reached for Mycroft and the man jerked back.

 

“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.” Irritated, Mycroft snapped.

 

“Not now.” Greg said patiently.

 

“No?” Mycroft sneered.

 

“No.” Greg carefully took Mycroft’s hand, lacing their fingers. “First you gave me the silent treatment and I was confused. Then you yelled at me.”

 

“I didn’t yell.” Mycroft frowned at their hands.

 

“I yelled back. I told you how I felt; you told me how you felt. Then I apologized.”

 

“You did apologize.”

 

“Now we’re making up.” Greg lifted Mycroft’s hand to his lips, gazing deeply into Mycroft’s eyes.

 

“I’m sorry too.”


	35. “It’s turbulence. It’s normal.”

The soft grunt made Mycroft glance up from the periodical he was reading. He took in the white knuckles and pale face of his seatmate.

 

“Are you alright Gregory?”

 

“Yeah,” came the tight reply. Only to be followed by a quiet whimper as the plane took another sudden drop in altitude then bounced back up.

 

“It’s turbulence. It’s normal.”

 

“Yeah.” The aircraft shook alarmingly. Greg closed his eyes, his lips moving in a silent prayer.

 

Mycroft put away his magazine. He lay his hand palm up on Greg’s knee. It was immediately grasped with a forceful grip. Mycroft squeezed back.


	36. “Slushies aren’t just for kids, fuck society.”

“We’ll have two cherry, one cola and one blue raspberry.” Greg paid for the treats and handed one to Mycroft, who raised an eyebrow. The twins began to eagerly slurp down their slushes.

 

“What is this exactly?”

 

“A slushie. The perfect thing for a hot day at the zoo, so drink up.”

 

“Ah…”

 

“What?”

 

“It doesn’t appear to be…” Mycroft watched Greg suck down his lurid blue beverage. “Something _adults_ generally enjoy.”

 

“Try it.”

 

Mycroft took a tentative sip, then a larger swallow.

 

Greg grinned knowingly. “And?”

 

Mycroft whispered in his husband’s ear. “Slushies aren’t just for kids, fuck society.”


	37. "Hold my hand so he gets jealous."

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

“You heard me.” Mycroft hissed.

 

“Yeah, I heard you, but it made no sense.”

 

“Hold my hand so he gets jealous. Those are small words and you should know the meaning of all them.” Mycroft twitched his fingers as they sat on the table.

 

Greg sighed, taking Mycroft’s hand.

 

“Not like that.” Mycroft adjusted their grip. “Like you like me.”

 

“I do like you. We’re lovers. Why are you trying to make this guy jealous?” Greg felt the other man’s gaze linger hungrily on him. “You’re being territorial.”

 

“Very.”

 

“I don’t think he’s the one that’s jealous.”


	38. “Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.”

“This is entirely unacceptable.” Mycroft stared at the wreckage that was Greg’s flat. “You can’t possibly stay here.”

 

“It’s not so bad.” Greg picked up a lamp from the floor. “He didn’t empty the contents of my fridge on the floor like last time.”

 

“He set fire to your bed.”

 

“I can go to a hotel.”

 

“Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.”

 

Greg looked at Mycroft, surprised.

 

“This will take weeks to repair properly. You’ll be more comfortable in my home then in a hotel room.” Mycroft pulled out his mobile. “Pack your things.”


	39. Quit touching me. Your feet are cold.

“Why are you way over there?” Greg asked as Mycroft climbed into the bed staying close to the edge.

 

“I didn’t want to crowd you.”

 

“What if I want to be crowded?” Greg reached toward Mycroft. “The whole point of sharing a bed is to be close.”

 

“Yes, but…” Mycroft edged nearer.

 

Greg settled Mycroft’s head against his chest. “Are you afraid I’m going to say ‘Quit touching me. Your feet are cold.’ if you get too close?”

 

“It could happen.”

 

“Nah, I won’t—Icicles from Hell! Your feet _are_ cold!”

 

“Apologies.”

 

“Get back here. Got to warm you up.”


	40. "Where did he go?"

“Gregory! Get in here now!” Mycroft bellowed from the bathroom.

 

“Hold on, love.” Greg came to the door. “What’s all the shouting about?”

 

Bare toes curled into the bath mat and a towel clutched around his waist, Mycroft pointed into the shower. “There. Spider. Kill it.”

 

Greg peered into the stall. “I don’t see any spiders.”

 

“Where did he go?” Mycroft peeked around Greg’s shoulder.

 

“More than likely he’s looking for the missus. Hoping to make some spider babies.” Greg turned to grin at his partner.

 

“That’s not fucking funny, Lestrade.” Mycroft smacked Greg’s shoulder. “Find it and kill it.”


	41. “I have a secret.”

Mycroft was feeling pleasantly buzzed. He smiled at Greg, who was helping him up the stairs.

 

“It was a lovely evening.”

 

“Yes, it was.” Greg grinned as he agreed with Mycroft.

 

“You looked very handsome in your tux.”

 

“Thank you My.”

 

“I looked handsome too.”

 

“Yes, you did.”

 

“We looked handsome together.”

 

“Yes, we did.”

 

“I have a secret.” Mycroft confessed.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Champagne makes me very tipsy.” Mycroft whispered.

 

Greg feigned disbelief. “I had no idea.”

 

“It’s true.” He nodded sagely. “I feel it’s important for you to know this now that we’re married.”

 

“You’re quite right to tell me.”


	42. “I thought you were dead!”

“I thought you were dead!”

 

Greg entered the kitchen, curious. “Who died?”

 

“Not ‘who’, but in this case ‘what’. My _mammillaria,_ I was sure it had died, but it seems to have bloomed.” Mycroft lifted one of the succulents that sat by the window.

 

“Oh that’s wonderful!”

 

Mycroft frowned, turning the pot in his hands.

 

“What’s wrong?” Greg asked.

 

“It appears to have several extra balls.”

 

Greg snickered.

 

“Don’t be juvenile.” Mycroft huffed. “I should water it since it’s grown.” Smiling, he went to get the watering can.

 

Greg sighed, counting the ‘balls’ and planning to purchase a new plant.

 

 

* * *

 

Inspired by [Hobby](https://kompilator.deviantart.com/art/Hobby-366357471) by Kompilator on Tumblr and my new head canon that Mycroft overwaters his cacti.


	43. “… Or we can chill in our underwear.”

Mycroft stood in front of the refrigerator. Cool air bathed his overheated face.

 

“What’re you doing?”

 

“I can no longer stand this heat. I’m moving to Iceland.”

 

“It’s not that bad.” Greg stood nonchalantly in his pants and nothing else.

 

“Not that bad? I changed my shirt three times and took a shower midday.”

 

“You over dress.”

 

Mycroft glared at Greg. The scowl melted as Greg ran his hand through silver hair.

 

“You going to stand there in front of the fridge?”

 

“Or?” Mycroft licked his lips and shut the fridge door.

 

“… Or we can chill in our underwear.”


	44. “You’re strong, baby. You have to be.”

“I can’t, Gregory. I just can’t.” Mycroft pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and leaned on his elbows.

“It can’t be as bad as all that.” Greg rubbed Mycroft’s shoulders.

“You’ve no idea.”

“Well?”

“Thriller.”

“No!”

“The music was saccharine, insipid and over-stylized the first time. A West End interpretation can only be worse, as hard as that is to believe.”

“You’re strong, baby. You have to be.”

Mycroft whimpered. “They’ll sing along with every song.”

“It’s only a few hours.” Greg soothed.

“I have to contact my counterpart in Russia. Perhaps I can arrange an assassination.”


	45. “I thought it was a one-night stand…now we are married…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could be considered a continuation of chapter 41.

“Hey, what’s going on in that magnificent brain?” Mycroft had gotten quiet as they readied for bed. Greg thought the champagne was wearing off.

“Just thinking.” Mycroft curled against Greg’s chest, idly stroking the greying chest hair.

“About?”

“Us.”

“And?” Greg wondered if his new husband was having second thoughts.

“Ten years ago…” Mycroft paused searching for the words. “I thought it was a one-night stand…now we are married…” The disbelief was palpable.

“Yeah, we are.” Greg tipped Mycroft’s chin up and kissed his husband with warmth and passion.

Mycroft sighed happily as they parted for air. “Yes, we are.”


	46. "One of them’s missing.”

“You see my belt?” Greg scratched the back of his head.

 

“Looped through the slats on the headboard. Remember?”

 

“Oh, that was my belt?”

 

“I wear braces Gregory, not a belt. Have you seen my cufflinks?”

 

“Bedside table?”

 

“Ah… One of them’s missing.”

 

“Maybe it’s under the bed.”

 

Mycroft rolled his eyes and knelt down to look. “This is the last time we do this in the middle of the day.”

 

Greg admired the man’s pert arse as he searched for the missing jewelry. “Well, if you didn’t wear so many clothes an afternoon quickie would be a lot quicker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I posted this on tumbler I had used the word "suspenders" instead of "braces". This generated a bit of comment. Oops! ;)


	47. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“…And then Anderson opened his big mouth. Well, you can imagine how that went over.”

 

“Mm…” Mycroft nuzzled Greg’s neck then trailed kisses down to Greg’s chest and lipped at his nipples.

 

Greg rubbed his hands along Mycroft’s shoulders.

 

 “I swear they wind each other up on purpose.” Greg mumbled. “One day…” He looked down at Mycroft to find his partner glaring at him. “What?”

 

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

 

“Um… You suggested I come over and relax.”

 

“Not come over and talk about _Anderson_!”

 

“Sorry.” Greg pulled Mycroft up for a kiss. “I’ll do better.”


	48. “D-did you just make that noise?”

A low gurgle broke the silence of the room. Greg looked over at Mycroft who sat studying a brief. He shifted slightly and re-crossed his long legs.

 

Greg returned to reading. Another rumble interrupted his concentration. Glancing over Greg watched Mycroft purse his lips and frown at something in the brief.

 

Mycroft felt himself being watched and looked up. “What?” A soft burble followed Mycroft’s question.

 

Greg smothered a giggle. “D-did you just make that noise?”

 

“Noise?” Mycroft gazed at Greg with a perfectly innocent expression.

 

“Ah… that… “ Greg stopped. “You know, I’d like a snack. How about you?”


	49. “You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

A couple smiled and nodded at Mycroft and Greg on their way out of the cozy inn’s dining room.

 

“Do you know them?”

 

Greg shrugged and drank his coffee.

 

Mycroft felt eyes boring into the back of his neck. An older gentleman was scowling at him. His wife cheerfully waved her fingers.

 

“Why are we garnering such attention?”

 

Greg looked around noting the furtive glances and smiles. One young man winked and gave him a thumb’s up. “I think I know why.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

 

Mycroft smirked. “Or the love-bite on your neck.”


	50. “I don’t do hugs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this bit of fan art by myteapotthngs on Tumblr.
> 
> https://myteapotthings.tumblr.com/post/177093895011/everyone-is-looking-at-us-gregory-so-what

“C’mere, you gorgeous man.” Eyes shining, Greg pulled Mycroft toward him.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you’re the smartest, sexiest person in the pub and you just smoked the quiz. Now get over here.”

“Everyone is looking at us Gregory.” Mycroft half-heartedly pushed at Greg’s arms as they snaked around him.

 

“So what.”

 

Mycroft giggled as Greg buried his nose into the soft spot behind Mycroft’s ear. “Gregory…” 

 

“Mmm…”

 

“Your lager is getting warm.”

 

“Don’t care.”

 

“Sherlock took your chips.”

 

“That bastard.” Greg remained unmoved.

 

“I don’t do hugs.” Mycroft protested weakly.

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I think you do hugs very well.”


	51. “You can scream if you want.”

Greg slid his hands down Mycroft’s flanks. They came to rest on Mycroft’s hips and he gently gripped them. “You good?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” Mycroft hissed. His eyes were dark and shiny.

 

Greg shifted slightly, testing.

 

“A little… ah… There.”

 

They settled in a smooth rhythm.

 

“Oh God… that feels… _fuck..._ feels amazing.”

 

Panting breaths punctuated by soft grunts of pleasure filled the air.

 

A little moan escaped from tightly sealed lips in response to a subtle change in the movement.

 

Thighs quivered and shook.

 

“Ooohh…”

 

“You can scream if you want.”

 

It was all the permission that was needed.


	52. “I’m your husband. It’s my job.”

“I don’t know why we had to leave.” Mycroft fumed as Greg climbed into the backseat with him.

 

“It was just time to leave.”

 

“We’ll miss the cake and the birthday toast.” Mycroft grumbled.

 

“I’m sorry love.” Greg took Mycroft’s hand and stroked the back of it.

 

Mycroft huffed, annoyed.

 

“I figured you had enough champagne.”

 

“How so?”

 

Greg sighed. “You challenged the Queen’s cousin to a duel.”

 

“He was ogling your arse.” Mycroft protested. “I had to defend your honor.”

 

“Thank you for that.” Greg kissed Mycroft’s hand.

 

“I’m your husband. It’s my job.”

 

“And you’re marvelous at it.”


	53. “It’s okay to cry…”

Greg watched Mycroft carefully hang his suit up in the closet. The tie and waistcoat followed. Greg started to undress as well.

 

“It was a lovely service.”

 

“Yes.” Mycroft agreed. He fumbled with his cufflinks.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine.” Mycroft stripped off the rest of his clothes until he stood in his pants and vest.

 

Greg gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s okay to cry…”

 

“Yes, I know.” Mycroft interrupted brusquely and then turned away. “I’m going to shower.”

 

Greg heard the water start, and a moment later a choked sob. He left the room with a heavy heart.


	54. “You can’t just hug me and think everything’s okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this as a continuation of the previous drabble.

When Mycroft emerged from the bathroom Greg was waiting for him, with lights dimmed and soft music playing. A tray with wine and cheese sat on the bed.

 

“I’m not hungry.” Mycroft stared into his closet not sure what to wear. It was too early for pajamas, but he didn’t want to put on any clothes.

 

Greg hugged Mycroft from behind. Mycroft sighed and turned in Greg’s arms. He laid his head on Greg’s shoulder.

 

“You can’t just hug me and think everything’s okay.”

 

“I know, love. I want you to know I’m still here even when things aren’t okay.”


	55. “Scoot over a little bit, please.”

Greg could see Mycroft was distinctly uncomfortable with the situation. The woman was leaning into his space. Her shoulders were pulled back causing her chest to thrust forward.

 

“Scoot over a little bit, please.” Greg murmured, handing Mycroft the drink. His head tilted in the opposite direction of the woman.

 

“Certainly.” Grateful, Mycroft shifted down.

 

Greg settled between them, leaning slightly against Mycroft. He turned to the young lady now forced to move back and gave her his most blinding smile.

 

Mycroft remembered his manners. “This is Miss Thurmond.”

 

“Hello. I’m Greg Lestrade, Mr. Holmes’s husband. Pleased to meet you.”


	56. “I’ve had enough! I want to be alone!”

Mycroft wasn’t sure what he had said, but Greg was glowering at him.

 

“Surely you can see this is a more efficient use of our time?”

 

“Fine.” Greg stood and left the room.

 

Mycroft followed into the kitchen. “By taking the more direct route…”

 

“I said, fine.” Greg walked out heading to the bedroom.

 

Confused Mycroft trailed behind. “But your tone suggests…”

 

“I’ve had enough! I want to be alone!” Greg slammed the door.

 

Mycroft stared at the door then went back to the kitchen. He made a cup of tea and watched it cool, uncertain what had just happened.


	57. “Don’t talk anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the previous chapter.

Mycroft tapped on the door and slipped inside. He sat on the edge of the bed. Greg lay with his back to him.

 

“I want to apologize,” Mycroft said quietly. “I thought about what you said, or rather what you didn’t say, and I think I understand. Well, I tried not to think too hard about it because I believe you were trying to surprise me.”

 

Greg rolled over. “It’s alright.”

 

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise, whatever it may be. It could be—no, I won’t speculate…”

 

Greg put his fingers on Mycroft’s lips. “Don’t talk anymore.”

 

“Okay.”


	58. "Use your words."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by all the almond croissants eaten in green_violin_bow's From Life. ;)

* No almond croissants. –GL *

 

* Did the bakery burn? –MH *

 

* Huge crowd. A bloke just bought the last 4. –GL *

 

* Kill him. –MH *

 

* No. Pick another pastry. –GL *

 

_(images sent)_

 

* Strawberry Basil Goat Cheese? Absolutely not! –MH *

 

* Cinnamon roll croissant? –GL *

 

* XP –MH *

 

* Use your words. –GL *

 

* Chocolate? –MH *

 

* They’re gone too. –GL *

 

* Bugger! –MH *

 

* Cherry-chocolate scone? –GL *

 

* I suppose. –MH *

 

* Crisis averted. –GL *

 

* Don’t be so melodramatic. –MH *


	59. "You can’t eat solids, only liquids until Thursday."

“I’m sorry. What was that?” Mycroft asked, climbing into bed.

 

“Just reading the instructions. You can’t eat solids, only liquids until Thursday.” Greg didn’t look up from the paper he was reading.

 

Mycroft peered over Greg’s arm, and then shrugged. “Well, as long as I can have my tea, that shouldn’t be a problem.” Mycroft settled under the duvet.

 

“Tea, yeah, but no milk.”

 

“No milk!” Mycroft sat up and snatched the paper, scanning down the page. “You must be mistaken.”

 

“Nope.” Greg pointed at the relevant passage.

 

Sighing Mycroft handed the paper back. “There must be a better way.”


	60. “You’re so clingy, I love it.”

”I’m not sure how I allowed you to talk me into this movie.” Mycroft flinched.

 

“It’s a fun movie.” Greg chuckled. “See, it’s got humour.”

 

“I admit that bit was amusing.” Mycroft slid a little closer and Greg lifted his arm, allowing Mycroft to cuddle up. Moments later Mycroft squeaked, hiding his face. “But not that bit.”

 

Greg kissed Mycroft’s head. “It’s safe.”

 

Mycroft peeked at the screen, only to dive back under Greg’s arm with a loud squawk.

 

“You’re so clingy, I love it.”

 

“How much will you love it when I insist on sleeping with the lights on?”


	61. “Just don’t buy a goat. I don’t care what you do, just no goats.”

“Alright, my dear, a few more steps.” Mycroft carefully guided Greg to their bed.

 

“I love you, My.”

 

“I love you too, Gregory.” Mycroft knelt to take off Greg’s shoes. “The doctor said the sedatives would wear off soon.”

 

“You know what I don’t love?”

 

“Goats.”

 

“That’s right! Goats.”

 

“You’ve mentioned it.”

 

Greg crawled under the duvet. “I will love you forever as long as you do one thing.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Just don’t buy a goat. I don’t care what you do, just no goats.”

 

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“I’ll never buy a goat.” Mycroft kissed Greg’s forehead. “Promise.”


	62. “If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!!”

“No! Not again.” Greg shivered and swore as he hurriedly finished washing his hair. “Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered quickly lathering up. “I work hard all day. Spent the last three hours of it standing in the rain. All I want is a hot shower. Is it too much to ask?” Greg shut off the shower and jumped out. Pulling his towel tight around him, teeth chattering, he shouted, “God dammit Mycroft Holmes! If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!!”

Mycroft opened the bathroom door. “Did you say something?”


	63. “Fist bumps are cooler than high fives…”

“What the hell was that?” Greg asked as Mycroft acknowledged another compliment on his pub quiz win.

 

“I believe it is called a fist bump.” Mycroft took a sip from his pint.

 

“Since when did you start doing fist bumps?”

 

“Fist bumps are cooler than high fives…” Mycroft remarked. Greg nearly spat his beer out. “So I’ve been told.”

 

“High fives?”

 

“Yes, high fives. It’s when you…”

 

“I know what a high five is, My. I’m surprised you do.”

 

“Despite what you may believe, I do try to stay current.”

 

Greg grunted and eyed Mycroft, thoughtfully. “It’s flu season.”

 

“Precisely.”


	64. “You’re going out dressed like that?”

“My! We need to get a shift on or we are going to be…” Stunned Greg stopped in the doorway of their bedroom. “You’re going out dressed like that?”

 

Mycroft stood in front of the mirror wearing blue jeans, a t-shirt with a graphic print of a dinosaur and a blue blazer. “You said casual.” He plucked at the t-shirt self-consciously.

 

“Yeah, but your version of casual doesn’t mean my version of casual.”

 

“You mean I could wear my tweed jacket with a pullover and trousers?” Mycroft looked hopefully at Greg.

 

“Yes, My. That would be fine.”

 

“Oh thank god.”


	65. "I lost our child."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder I did give the boys twin girls last Christmas. :)

“I’m sorry what was that?” Greg glanced down at Evie staring at Hamley’s Christmas display.

 

“I lost our child. I was perusing the Christmas hampers… and then Milly was gone.”

 

“Did you notify the staff?”

 

“Of course I did! I notified MI5, the CIA and the Queen.”

 

“Not Scotland Yard?”

 

“I’m notifying you now!”

 

“Alright, keep your pants on. We’re coming. You at Harrod’s?”

 

“Yes. Oh… She wouldn’t. Would she?”

 

“What’re you thinking?”

 

“The Ballerina.” Mycroft hurried to the exit. “Oh God. I found her.”

 

“Was she outside looking at the Christmas display?”

 

“Gregory, she is _in_ the Christmas display.”

 


	66. “You just wanted them because they light up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing the holiday theme this week.

“Well? What do you think?”

 

“Are those ornaments?” Mycroft stared at the gaudy plastic creations.

 

“Yeah. I’d a mate send them from the States. Aren’t they beautiful?”

 

“They are… ah… very seasonal.”

 

“I think the girls’ll love them. See, this one has a train and the other a sleigh with reindeer.”

 

Mycroft hummed noncommittally.

 

“Oh and watch this.” Greg pressed a small button on one of the ornaments causing it to immediately come to life with flashing lights and playing ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town’. Greg gazed at it fondly.

 

“You just wanted them because they light up.”

 

“Yeah.”


	67. “How do I even put up with you?”

Smiling Mycroft viewed the scene before him, the twins at the table “decorating” cookies and Greg at the counter rolling dough and singing.

 

_“It’s the Little Saint Nick.”_

 

 _“Little Saaaaint Nick,”_ the girls sang.

 

Greg spun holding the rolling pin as a microphone to serenade them. Catching sight of Mycroft, he grinned.

 

 _“Run, run reindeer,”_ Greg crooned. He pointed the rolling pin.

 

Without missing a beat Mycroft sang out. _“He don’t miss no one.”_

 

The girls cheered.

 

“You realize that lyric is grammatically incorrect.” Mycroft kissed Greg and the girls.

 

“How do I even put up with you?” Greg laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from "Little Saint Nick" by The Beach Boys


End file.
